Assertion
by Lizard Pie
Summary: Austria has been moving in on Prussia's new little brother, and that can't be allowed to stand. Prussia decides to explain exactly how much this new country is his in a way which is very distinctly Prussian. A response to an ancient kink prompt.


The Prussian household was on built on, and seemingly as a shrine to, war. Actual decoration was rather sparse; mostly consisting of things stolen in various conquests and maps to plan more. And, like the owner, it always seemed to smell, at least slightly, like blood and fire.

It was in fierce contrast to the showier, and far more docile, Austrian house far south; which was filled with music, gold trim, and the scent of pastries.

Deep within the Prussian compound (because, really, it was nothing like a home), the two stared each other down with all the disdain of their histories. It was a fight for dominance that, at least temporarily, was only fought with eyes.

For a recently-founded nation, who had no real idea exactly what he had been or what he would eventually be, to find out that these two were meant to be his brothers was just as conflicting as their personae. Confliction which moved into more than a little terror as Prussia clamped a firm hand on his shoulder, though his expression didn't so much as twitch.

"I hear you've been stealing my little brother," he said. His fingers curled painfully on the teenager's shoulder to simultaneously protect and punish.

The young nation cringed in pain, but neither paid his discomfort any mind.

"I wouldn't call it 'stealing'," Austria replied; tone as tense as he could be while retaining his dignity. "That's an act for barbarians like you. I wanted to show him the finer points of our..."

"Finer points?" Prussia practically spit the term. "We're in fucking war, and you're making him focus on a god damn piano..."

"It's not a god damn anything!" Austria snapped. "And damned if I'm going to sit by and watch you turn another nation into a war monger like you."

Prussia blinked.

The sound he made then wasn't a laugh; which was reserved for alliance and friendship. The noise could only really be described as a cackle, and neither of the other two nations was so oblivious that they didn't know exactly what it meant.

"You actually think you get some say in this, don't you?" Prussia asked. "I thought you were just looking for an audience since you can't hold onto an empire."

Austria's eyes narrowed fiercely at that.

"But you honestly think you have some right to him!" Prussia went on. He cackled again, louder this time, as he bent down and draped his arms around his little brother. One pale hand delicately ran across the soft cheek. It could have been confused for a loving motion, if Prussia ever was. "No, no, no, Austria. I fought for this little one, and he's all~ mine." He placed a kiss on the blond hair before him. "If there's so much confusion, I guess I just need to re-claim my territory."

"You're sick." Austria spat. He turned to walk away, only to find himself slammed against the table, arms pinned behind his back.

"You're not leaving," Prussia whispered fiercely into his ear. "This demonstration is for you as much as it's for him."

Austria gritted his teeth, and tried to find any logic in being related to something like this as he was bound and thrust forcefully into a chair.

The young nation he watched now seemed to know exactly what was coming next.

As opposed to the terror that would normally have accompanied it, Austria was nothing less then baffled as the expression was of calm expectation and obedience.

What the hell was this boy?

It was often difficult to think of anything the eccentric empire did as pre-planned. After all, it certainly seemed that he had twice as many scars as he would have ever gotten had he ever bothered to think through his actions.

But the fact that Prussia had held this meeting in his war room had to have been preconceived. Austria bet that it was even a fantasy for Prussia to be able to claim another nation in the room he used to plan such things in.

He felt sorry for the youth, having to go through such a thing, despite the fact that it very much appeared that Austria was the only one concerned.

This boy moved obediently with his elder brother's commands; consented to strip and spread his legs for the invasion, and then to buck rhythmically and accordingly. It wasn't a mutual act (though nothing with Prussia ever was), but more than that it had nothing to do with this nation at all.

Prussia spent the entire time with his eyes locked on Austria. His hips thrusts were deliberate and fierce. His face was completely controlled other than when he paused to moan in a manner obviously for show.

There was something about knowing that each movement was strictly for him that was... not exciting, never. This was Prussia, after all, and he was the very definition of a barbarian. It was hypnotizing because it was performed by a master of manipulation and hatred; and the tightening that caused Austria to squirm despite himself was the fault of, and definitely not for, Prussia.

A wide grin spread at the reaction he'd caused, and only encouraged Prussia to make the show even more exaggerated. He tossed his head and gasped; even allowed one of his hands to drop down and make the stoic teen beneath him copy those movements.

He acted out-of-control with his own lust, and yet somehow retained a meticulous manner of conquest that was nothing if not Prussian.

The tightness and heat in his pants approached an unbearable level; one that had quickly become infuriating without the ability to do anything about it.

And by 'do anything about it', of course he didn't mean to pleasure himself. Not in front of, not because of, the vile country in front of him.

That guttural moan, after all, was probably no different from a psychotic cry for blood. Even if it was the most delicious sound he'd ever.... NO.

The teen below Prussia was long-since spent, and watched his elder brother obediently, patiently, for the next order.

Beneath all of their noses, Prussia had raised himself a soldier. A dog-like level of devotion, determination, and (if the rumors were true) ferocity. Perverse and disgusting, but.... Prussian.

If he hadn't responded to the music, to the poetry, with such rapture, Austria could have been convinced that there was no hope for this young country. But somewhere within the stoic blue eyes, there was a spark of something very different.

And as Austria's hips twitched despite himself in irritation, he knew that he had no choice but to work harder to bring it out.

Not for the new nation's sake, though Austria lied to himself fiercely to say that it was, but because Prussia didn't deserve to have the satisfaction of such a perverse victory.

Austria bit back a moan when Prussia came with an animalistic scream. He glared and tried to suppress the flush of his cheeks (mostly because he knew the heat far below them wouldn't change for something as cognitive as will power) as Prussia pulled out and stood over him. Prussia wore a smirk that was so wide it nearly split his face in two, but Austria refused to look at him.

His conquest was exhausted and sore as fluids dripped down his legs, but the youth stood and redressed without a word.

"Go wash up for dinner," Prussia said.

Prussia looked over and smiled and... the young nation responded in kind. Austria hadn't seen the expression before, even in the face of the beauty he'd supplied.

"Yes, brother." He nodded happily, and rushed off to do as he'd been told.

Prussia leaned down to smile in Austria's face. "You didn't get that smile before, did you?"

Austria did nothing but glare in return. Even if he was going to snap back a retort (which Prussia didn't deserve), he was sure that he wouldn't have been capable of coherence.

"That's because he's mine. Don't forget that." Prussia looked down smugly at the straining pants his brother sported. He pat the erection in a manner which was condescending (and Austria hated himself for having to fight so hard not to grind into it). "I'll just leave you to enjoy that for a while; I need to go start dinner." He turned with a wave. "See you in a few hours."

Despite the knowledge that it was pointless, Austria still fought his restraints. Prussia chuckled at the grunts, and shut the door to his war room. Prussia looked over at France, and snickered at the discarded and stained glove his ally held.

"You all are so ridiculous," he said, walked down the hall. "Being turned on by conquest. It's amazing you aren't dead."

"You do put on quite a show, mon ami," France told him, followed the other nation down the hall. "You have to admit."

"I know," Prussia told him with a smirk. "I expect those extra troops by the end of the week."

"Of course."

"And dinner would be lovely."

"Let me have the Austrian and I'll make you more food than you've ever seen."

"Never mind, then."

The two laughed as they walked, though Prussia watched his ally out of the corner of his eye.

This romanticization was so ridiculous. Conquest was a lot of things, but to be blinded by lust was going to be the death of the lot of them.

The still-unnamed youth under his care (he had to get on that...) would have to be trained properly; more so that he already was. There was no way that anyone Prussia raised was going to end up crumbling as quickly as these two.

He cared far too much for his little brother to let that happen.


End file.
